Libriohexer (Wolfman Warlock Book 2) - Chapter Twenty-One

Sam stepped out of the entrance from the marketplace and back into New Narvik, breathing in the crisp air.

“We should be getting back,” Velkan said, but Sam lingered.

His business was done with the merchants of the Wolfman Marketplace, but his gaze fell on the longhouse, nestled in a ring of trees not far off. The O’Baba’s unofficial residence. His mind leapt back to what Bill had said when they first entered the Marketplace. This place. All of these places, they are enormous spatial libraries... That’s why they can move around—because they aren’t bound to a location, they’re bound to a person. The Totem poles are just doorway access points.

Sam still wasn’t sure if he believed Bill’s hunch, but the book knew more about magic than anyone else Sam had ever met. Heck, he probably knew more about magic and spatial theory than just about anyone else alive. And if Bill’s theory was correct, then the Wolfmen might have the key necessary for him to unlock his specialization. But, based on Velkan’s reactions and silence whenever Sam brought up the Totems, it was clear that their resident wolfman wouldn’t be much help in getting to the truth behind the training grounds or the marketplace. Clearly, it was deep magic and well above his paygrade.

Yuri Brightblood, their Shaman handler, might know the truth, but he barely tolerated Sam and company as it was. There was no way he was going to disclose the most vital secrets of the wolfmen to some uppity outsider. The O’Baba though? She would definitely have the answers that Sam needed, and although meeting her eye to eye was about as intimidating as staring down a T.Rex, she had a soft spot for Sam. Well, for Bill at least. The Wolfmen respected the wisdom of age and valued the power of magic. Bill was both old and powerful and had chosen to bound with Sam—that kind of endorsement went a long way with the furry-faced folk.

Plus, Sam had saved Velkan from captivity, which had dramatically increased his personal reputation with the O’Baba. Having a high personal reputation with someone here counted for a lot. Still… Going to her unannounced was a gamble. She might flay him alive for the act, but all of life was a gamble and he cared about specializing more than he cared about the threat of possible death.

“Why don’t you go on ahead without me,” Sam said after a long beat. “Bill and I have a little bit of business left to take care of.”

“Not with the Wolfman Marketplace, I trust,” Velkan grunted in reply. “It would not be wise for you to venture there unattended. Not yet.”

“No, nothing like that,” Sam said, glancing back toward the long house. “What I’m thinking of doing is way riskier.”

Velkan’s eyes followed Sam’s gaze.

“You live dangerously, Sam King,” he muttered darkly, “even by Wolfman standards. May your hunt be fruitful and your probably death painless.” He offered Sam what almost looked like a smirk.

“I feel like maybe I missed something,” Bill said as they watched the Wolfman leave. “Which is probably on me, if I’m being honest. I stopped paying attention a while ago—I tend to do that when you start talking and you don’t mention my name for a while. So what fresh craziness are you brewing up for us this time, huh?”

“I think it’s time we get to the bottom of this whole Totem thing,” Sam replied as he made his way down the narrow footpath that led between the ring of trees and to the front door of the longhouse.

“You sure this is the smart choice?” Bill asked. “I mean, I think it’s great. I’m dying to know how in the world they’re pulling off their spatial hoodoo, but you’re the only who will actually die if things go south in there.”

Sam raised his fist but paused before knocking.

“Are you sure that these Totem Grounds are really some form of spatial libraries?” Sam asked.

Bill fell silent. “Ninety percent sure,” he finally said. “I mean I can’t be one-hundred percent sure until I actually have the answer, but I can’t see any other plausible explanation. I’ve studied magic for a long, long time and the facts fit the theory like a glove. Plus, even though I don’t exactly have a stomach, I have a gut feeling that I’m right about this.”

“That’s good enough for me,” Sam said. He let his fist fall three times, rapping sharply on the wood. “You trusted my hunch about the chicken farming, so I’m going to trust yours about this. We’re a team and that means we go out on a limb for each other.”

“A sweet sentiment,” came a matronly tone as the door cracked open, “but not a smart one.”

The O’Baba’s golden eyes were narrowed to slits, and she carried a meat-cleaver in one hand. Her fur was a metallic silver speckled with white and she wore a simple silk shawl draped across her back and shoulders, while a long leather apron covered her front. She was rather small as Wolfmen went, her back bent with age, which made it something of a challenge to bow lower than her. It had to be done though, since it was customary for a lesser to keep their head and body lower than that of the higher ranked pack member. Probably why the Wolfmen had such terrible posture, Sam mused not for the first time.

“Not even Lords and Ladies of the People call on me uninvited,” the O’Baba growled. “You have five minutes to convince me of your need or I will kill you for your insolence.” She turned with a huff and disappeared, quickly swallowed by the shadows of the longhouse.

“Not to say I told you so,” Bill whispered, “but I totally told you so…”

“Big help,” Sam replied as he steeled his resolve and headed in after the wizened she-wolf, knowing there was a good chance he was walking toward his death like a lamb to the slaughter. This was the right call, though. Now he just needed to convince the Matron of the pack. The floor of the O’Baba’s dwelling wasn’t wood or tile, but rather a carpet of lush and flawless green grass, accented in places by the colorful blooms of wildflowers. A number a low wooden tables were spread throughout the hall, perfect for hosting large communal meals, though there were no chairs present. Sam knew from experience that the wolfmen took their meals on the floor, sitting. The idea of a comfortable chair was anthem to their way of life.

It was dark in the hall, but Sam’s Darkvision helped him navigate the space with ease. He glanced at the colorful tapestries that adorned the walls. They were beautiful works of art, each woven from a gossamer silk and decorated using hard-edged geometric patterns. That silk came from the Frostworms of the Black Tundra—they were rare creatures and exceptionally deadly.

Sam pushed his way through a door at the back of the hall, which connected to a large kitchen area. The same place that he’d met with the O’Baba the first time around. And then, just like now, he’d been unsure whether he was going to walk away with his head intact.

The matronly wolf was already standing behind a granite countertop. She had a wooden cutting board in front of her and was busy slicing a huge array of vegetables. Behind her, hanging over a massive fireplace, was an enormous potbellied cauldron that burled with something that smelled divine. She scooped up a handful of chopped radishes and tossed them into the cook pot with a flick of her wrist, then went right back to work, never even bothering to glance in Sam’s direction.

“You can spend your entire five minutes sniffing at my stew like a young hungry pup,” she said, breaking the silence, “but I’m not adding more time. And if you don’t convince me of your need, you’re liable to end up in the pot as an ingredient.”

“The Totem Grounds,” Sam blurted out. There wasn’t a tactful way to do this and he was running out of time. “I need to know how they work.”

The *schwick*, *schwick*, *schwick* of her cleaver abruptly stopped and her lips pulled back in a snarl. She stared daggers at him, her eyes boring deep into his soul like a drill.

Oh no. It looked like that was the wrong thing to say. But he couldn’t back down now or divert his gaze—to do so would be to invite attack. He gulped, suppressed a tremor in his hand, and meet her eyes. He needed to project confidence and swagger. He couldn’t be openly defiant, but he needed her to know that he belonged here by right, just as he’d done with Ankova in the Marketplace. He was a Lord of the People and her first human ally. He was the first Biblomancer in 300 years. He was not going to be cowed, not even by the O’Baba.

After a long, tense moment, the O’baba snorted and the snarl vanished.

“And how is it that you have learned of the Totem Training Grounds, hmm?”

“Velkan of the Redmain Tribe,” Sam said, keeping the tremble of fear from his words. “He introduced our Pack a week or so back.”

She tisked. “I am starting to regret asking you to bring that pup home,” she said though there was now real bite in the words. The Wolfman version of sarcasm. “And what training have you done, then?”

“Bill and I ventured through the Owl Totem—we even met with Great Auntie Owl. Had tea with her. She helped me break the Wisdom threshold.”

She flinched just a hair at his words and some of the tension seemed to drain out from her shoulders.

“That is a great rarity,” she said, almost as much for her sake as Sam’s. “And you are sure it was her? Speak the truth, Sir Bill. You would not lie to a young woman such as me.”

“Naw,” Bill said. “It was definitely her. Huge owl lady, crazy curling horns. She gave us tea and even managed to put me to sleep. I haven’t slept in over three-hundred years. She was the real deal. No doubt in my mind.”

“Your adventures know no bounds it seems,” the O’Baba said with a thin smile. “And why is it that you would need to know about our deep magics?”

“Well, we were trying to figure out how the spatial magics work,” Sam started, “but it only really started to click into place when Velkan took us to the Wolfman marketplace—”

The O’Baba let out a strangled yelp.

“Not only have you gone to the training grounds, but you have visited our hub of commerce? In his desire to honor the life debt he owes to you two, I fear Velkan has overreached. Even as a Lord of the People it is not right for outsiders to venture into that place without proper reason.”

“But we had reason,” Sam interjected. “He didn’t just take us there to do some window shopping. I’m a merchant now. I just struck a bargain with Ankova of the Shadowlands Tribe.”

The shock on O’Baba’s face was almost comical.

“I think, perhaps, my ears have deceived me in my old age. You now qualify as a merchant and have just come to an accord with Ankova of the Shadowlands Tribe. She is the most formidable and highly regarded meat-trader in all the tribes. What could you have even offered one such as her?” Try as she might, the O’Baba couldn’t keep the incredulity out of her voice.

Sam just shrugged and told her about his blossoming chicken business. By the time he was done, she was shaking her head.

“A worthy addition to the Tribe indeed,” she muttered. “Your five minutes is up, but you have piqued my curiosity. I may still kill and skin you for your impudence, but I would hear more about why you seek the knowledge of the Totems.”

“How’s about you let me cover this one,” Bill offered. “You’re only going to explain it wrong anyway. So, the kid and I were trying to figure out how those Totem portals worked. On the surface, it definitely seemed like spatial magic, but I couldn’t figure out how you were moving those totems around. I was leaning toward the idea that they were actually dungeon instances, but then we visited the Marketplace and boom. Hit he like a mace to the temple.

“More portal totems, but this time instead of going into some wild landscape filled with monsters, we popped out in an interdimensional marketplace. That was strike one against the dungeon instance theory. And according to Velkan, the marketplace has multiple access points, scattered all over the continent. And that was strikes two and three. But there is one kind of magic that I know of that can account for that. An Interspatial Library. Admittedly, I’ve never heard of a library that big, but in theory one could grow that large—given enough time and power. Plus, the entrances to an Interspatial Library are portable.”

“Let us say there is some small amount of merit to your line of thinking,” the O’Baba said slowly, “why would you need to know about such things? Surely you are not risking your life for a mere intellectual curiosity. A being with your many years surely must have more wisdom than that.”

“Phft. Not even a little,” Bill shot back in an instant. “I would absolutely risk everything for mere intellectual curiosity. If age and wisdom has taught me anything, it’s that curiosity is the father and mother of innovation and greatness. You don’t become a master mage without having an unquenchable curiosity and desire to learn. With that said, though, there is a more practical reason. The kid here has decided that he wants to become an Archivist Summoner. And the first step to doing that is to specialize as a Libriohexer. And to do that, we need to start building out an Interspatial Library. Problem is…” He faltered and took a deep breath.

“Okay, look as much as it pains me to admit it, the problem is I don’t know how to do that. If the kid had picked one of the other possible specializations, I could’ve guided him along every step of the path. But I don’t know how to build an Interspatial Library. I know they exist. There are myths and legends about them that I believe are more than just myths and legends. I also have some theories, but they are just that. I tried to start one myself and managed to create a Soul Space in the process, but something went wrong. I don’t know what, and I don’t know how to get from point A to point B. But I think you and your elders do. Back in my College days, I had the pleasure of meeting one of your fur-faced Shamans. Bright kid and he was looking into Interspatial Libraries too and now I think I understand why.”

The O’Baba was pensive for a long moment, staring off into the distance.

“You have lofty goals and ambitious great enough even for a Wolfman to envy,” she said. “It is admirable. And so is your curiosity. But this information you seek, it was one of the coveted secrets of the People. I will speak plainly since you are an outsider and are still learning our ways. My position among the Tribes… It is not absolute. My standing can change in an eyeblink. There are equally ambitious shamans among the tribes who think I am too weak to govern during a time such as this. That a stronger hand is needed at the helm during a war. They will not speak such words in the open, but even in my old age, my ears are sharp, and they hear such whispers.

“These whelps would gladly see me fall and another to rise as the O’Baba in my stead. They are waiting for but a single slip up to act. And should I fall, your own standing within the tribe may well be in jeopardy depending on who ascends. Kosoruk the Savage of White Wyther is chief among my rivals and has no love for humans. Under his paw, you might well find yourself without a People to call your own—an enemy to humanity and an outcast among the Wolfmen. I have put more trust in you than you can know, but to dole out such a secret of the People would cause my downfall. And yours.”

“No, there has to be a way—” Sam started, balling his hands into fists.

She cut him off with a stern look. “Do not lose hope yet, young one. If you would seek the sacred knowledge of the Totems you must do something to solidify your place among the People. A blow so vicious against humanity that not even Kosoruk could question your loyalty to our kind.” She looked uncertain for the first time Sam could ever remember. “I have news that might serve the two of you well. You and the People both. If you have the courage and boldness to seize the opportunity, that is.

“There is a Rogue Mage troubling the College and, for once, it is not you, Sam King. Joe, he is called. And this Rogue Mage has created a big problem for the current College administration. He has stumbled upon a restricted class and has been operating beneath their very noses. Openly flaunting their rules. Parading his defiance by refusing to sign their Accords. Even going so far as to kidnap one of their journeymen.” She drummed her claws against the countertop. “As you might imagine, it is a bad look for the College. As bad as me helping you and your fledging pack.

“The College, you see, maintains their power over the mages through their iron clad Accords,” the O’Baba continued, “but they maintain their influence over everyone else through the total dominance of all would-be magic users. My sources inside the walls of the human capital confirm that they have finally apprehended this Joe. Now they need to prove to all of Ardania that they are still in complete control and they will do so by making an example of him.

“They will punish him severely and force him to sign the Accords for his disobedience. My eyes and ears tell me that every Mage in a five-hundred mile radius is supposed to attend the trial. To witness the Arch-Mage’s justice. This trial, it will take place in one days’ time.” She thrust a bony finger into the air. “It is not my place to tell you what to do with this knowledge. But perhaps there is some kernel here that will allow you to prove yourself a loyal Pack member even to one such Kosoruk.”

Hidden Quest! Exalted of the Pack: The O’Baba has confided in you that her position within the Pack will be in jeopardy if she reveals the ancient secrets of the Wolfmen Totem Grounds. But if you can prove your loyalty and devotion beyond a shadow of a doubt—even to the most ardent haters of humanity—she will reveal the secrets you require to unlock the Libriomancer Specialization. To gain that kind of trust is no simple thing, though.

Currently your reputation with The People is ‘Friendly’ but she will not disclose the information until you have obtained the ‘Extended Family’ rank status. To do this, you must strike a fatal blow to a powerful human institution. She has also informed you that the Mage’s College is holding a trial for the Rogue Mage named Joe, in one days’ time. According to her informants, every Mage in Ardania will be in attendance. What you do with this information is entirely up to you, but opportunities like this only come along once in a lifetime…

There is no penalty for failing to accomplish this task! Accomplishing this task, however, will elevate your overall reputation with The People. Reward: +3,000 Reputation with The People. Exp: 10,000. Title: Right Hand of The People. Accept / Decline

Sam gladly accepted.

“Thank you,” he said, his mind already buzzing with options. “I won’t let you down.”

“I should hope not. If you fail me in this, the fate of all our kind will be in jeopardy.”

“I won’t,” he said, and meant it. Sam needed to get back to the Irondowns and talk to the others. They had the crime of the century to plan his mind was already buzzing with the possibilities.